Tomorrow Sounds Good
by starlit skyes
Summary: When the boy of Ginny's early dreams made a move, the obnoxious, gorgeous git named Draco Malfoy ruined simply everything. But this obnoxious git was a good kisser...and he made the tomorrows of Ginny's life sound pretty damn wonderful.
1. Christmas–an ENJOYABLE Nightmare

**A/N: **I really enjoy writing Ginny's POV. :) Hope you enjoy this!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. That is all.

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I was dressing very carefully, trying to look my best, as I stared into the bronze framed, long mirror in the dormitory.

I was wearing a creamy white organdy gown, old fashioned but beautiful. It had soft, frilly little sleeves that fluttered right on the edge of my shoulder, always looking as though it would just slide off, but staying on my arm tantalizingly. The neck was cut low, and wide; the skirt had many, narrow pleats that spread in an authentic pattern around my feet. I did my hair simply, pulling the thick titian tresses into a chignon at the back of my head, held in place by an old hair comb I'd dug out, a pretty thing set with bright opals. Finally, I put a thin layer of kohl outlining my light amber eyes.

"Hmmm," I said appreciatively. "You look great, Gin."

I smiled confidently at my image in the mirror, and then walked out of the common room.

Just as I hopped out of the portrait hole (with my gown giving me a bit of a hard time), I noticed Colin, my date for the evening, waiting expectantly just a few feet from it.

"Hey, Col," I greeted him.

His eyes widened as he saw me, and his mouth actually popped open. I suppressed a giggle -Well, that proved that I looked pretty tonight.

"H-Hi, Ginny," he spluttered finally. "Wow, you look..._wow-_ just great!"

"Thanks," I said, grinning. "You look nice, too."

He was wearing deep gray robes that seemed a shade close to his eyes, and...well, he had his usual boyish charm. Forget the fact that he was almost a foot shorter than me.

Colin and I were just going to this ball as _friends_, not anything else, so don't get me wrong -I _don't_ have a taste for tiny boys. Others _had_ asked me, but I wasn't in the mood for them.

Okay I'll be honest -so Harry had asked me first, and I'd said no, thinking that I had hung around after him for nearly five years, and so he'd have to try a bit harder to get me now. But when Roger Davies, Terry Boot and Dean Thomas had asked me as well, seeing as all three were extremely good-looking guys, I didn't want to hurt Harry's feelings by going with them. I know, I'm such a wuss.

So I clutched Colin's arm -and after he'd tried to trip me, and I'd stamped his foot to dirty it's perfect shoe-shine gloss- we followed the bustling crowds towards the Great Hall, where we were having the Hogwarts Annual Christmas Ball -it happened every year, obviously, on Christmas Eve.

As we entered the golden archways, I gasped. It was so beautiful.

Glimmering ice sculptures and decorated Christmas trees lined every wall, with twittering little fairies around the room. The ceiling, in its usual sky-charm, was deep blue and spattered with stars. Mistletoe hung from everywhere, even the starry ceiling. Actual flakes of fluffy snow fell from the sky, and now covered the floors; miraculously, though, it wasn't slippery. All the magic of magic, of course. There were even little snow men guarding each tall window and archway. It was like some sort of fairy tale winter scenery in here. But there was something distinctly quaint, about it, that I just loved.

"Awesome..." Colin crowed. "What a bummer, I forgot my camera!"

I snorted loudly, but said nothing. I'd just noticed Harry, with Parvati's arm perched smugly on his.

He wore deep, rich green dress robes that reflected his eyes so well, and his hair, longer these days than it used to be, was as wonderfully messy as I loved it to be.

But I'd gotten over him a year ago, so I didn't go crazy. You see, I was at what you might call the 'healing' stage, so I was able to control myself and possibly notice other males, instead of my previous obsessed condition.

"Hey, Harry," I said, nodding to him as we reached them. "Parvati."

Parvati smiled tightly at me, and then looked away(I had been on bad terms with her ever since I had thrown a crystal ball at Trelawney last year–which is a different story that I will tell later).

Harry blushed bright pink, cleared his throat, and said, "Hi."

I smiled a slow smile at him, and then sauntered off with Colin to the long wooden benches lined up at a corner. We sat there and prepared to wait for the Heads of Houses and Dumbledore to arrive so the Ball could officially begin.

I chattered inconsequentially with Colin for a while, and then we sat in companionable silence. Occasionally he would demand my attention with a comment like, "Look at that Parkinson girl! She looks like a _tropical butterfly_ or something in _that_ scrap!" -and on these instances I would readily agree, and supply another comment.

Soon the Slytherins began to walk in: Millicent Bulstrode with Gregory Goyle -both looking like toads, I might add- Evelyn Thornhorn with Crabbe; she looking constipated and he like a gorilla, I noted; Blaise Zabini with a girl whose name I didn't know -Zabini looked pretty cute, I had to admit; and...and...

Draco Malfoy and Cho Chang -both looking just drop-dead gorgeous, without a doubt.

I _knew_ I'd notice Malfoy. He's...what? _Prince of Slytherin_. Yeah. Right. Pfft.

But he's _beautiful._

And he's an asshole.

Anyway, Malfoy was wearing these deep, midnight blue robes, with edges sewn with golden silk threads that just _screamed _'thousands of galleons', and, with his pale skin, looked simply stunning. His silvery blond hair, now cut shorter so that it just about reached the collar of his robes, was slicked back on both sides, tapering at the nape of his neck.

The hairstyle -what was it called? "Duck's ass". I snorted derisively.

I didn't look at Cho, she had been my worst enemy just a year ago for reasons I don't have to explain, so I merely and determinedly looked away from the staggering couple, focusing on Luna, who was trying to have a conversation with a snowman, it seemed.

I leaned back on my bench, looking at no one in particular, and made up my mind to enjoy the evening.

**X**

I sat contentedly, feeling good after all the mead I'd drunk, watching Ron and Hermione dance while Harry watched from his bench. He seemed tense about something -But I didn't worry about that for long.

It had been a fun evening. I'd had many dances -firstly a brief, amusing one with Colin -and then, after he'd asked little Amora Stevens in the 3rd year, I'd got around on my own, thankfully. Harry had asked me, and I suppose we had fun -he was a fair dancer -although very awkward, and blushing like a beet the whole time, for some reason. Then there were a few brief ones with other classmates.

As the music changed, it got more fun. At one of the favorite swing numbers I'd consented to dance once with Michael Corner, a disappointed ex, and the whole crowd moved away to give us the floor as we gracefully danced the 'jitterbug'. There was _wild_ applause at the end, with Harry looking like he might clap his hands raw, I noticed.

And then, of course, was the flawless dinner, wiped off with a scrumplicious Christmas cake.

Most people had filtered out by now, since it was nearly midnight -I guess the couples wanted to spend the time doing something, erm, special.

There weren't many people left now -just Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few Slytherins with their dates. My friend Anne had gone out a few minutes ago -I suspected she and Seamus were one of the couples that desired time alone.

Finally Ron pulled Hermione off the floor, laughing as they collapsed back on the bench next to Harry.

"Well, it's late," Ron said finally. "Hermione and I are going... Coming, Gin?" He grinned at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Alright," I answered, wondering vaguely why he didn't ask Harry. Said Harry, meanwhile, sat tersely in place, looking somewhat nervous.

I got up, and made to follow Ron out the archway.

"Ginny..." Harry said softly. "Wait..."

I turned to him, startled. He looked up at me, his expression sort of pleading.

"What is it, Harry?"

Hermione shot a glance at me, giggled, and said, "Come, Ron, let's go..." Ron snorted, and then they walked away, laughing and pulling at each other.

"What is it?" I repeated to Harry, who was now looking steadily at his feet.

Just then, I noticed the Slytherins leaving -Blaise staggering out, laughing drunkenly and pulling his girl along; Evelyn and Millicent seemed to have abandoned their dates, because Crabbe and Goyle walked out alone.

Draco Malfoy walked urbanely toward the archway, which was just about a few feet from Harry and me. Cho wasn't with him -no doubt Malfoy had demonstrated his asshole-ish ways, and she'd realized her mistake and left him. That was good for him, too, because Cho Chang was a bitch, and she'd have made his life miserable, really, like she'd tried to make Harry's–

At that moment, Malfoy turned his head back slightly, and–and–he looked at _me_. His silver eyes widened a little bit, and his full lips twisted into an amused smirk.

Malfoy was looking _at_ me, and smirking at _me, _and _boy,_ was he gorgeous. My heart thumped loudly, and there was a violent roller-coaster in my stomach -not like the swooping sensation provoked by Harry that I used to experience, this was something... _pleasanter. _My cheeks turned hot, and I couldn't look away.

All this happened in a moment, of course, and as I realized what I was doing, I turned stiffly away from the load of them and waited for the quiet Harry to make his intention clear. My gaze steadily avoided the archway; some Slytherins were making me paranoid.

After all was quiet around us I said again, "Harry... what's up? Is anything wrong?" my voice was soft.

Harry looked at me as though he was trying to decide something. His face was flushed, and his eyes somehow eager. Then he got up, and took a step toward me.

"Ginny... I wanted to, er, talk to you."

"What about?"

His hand rose to rumple his hair, and he smiled faintly as he took a few more slow steps toward me. He was now about three feet away.

A little tingle went down my spine.

"I think... I think, uh, maybe we..." He paused, taking another tentative step toward me. Then he suddenly glanced at the tall grandfather clock at the corner. His eyes widened, and he smiled softly. "Merry Christmas, Gin."

The hands of the clock were both at the large XII.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." I smiled.

He moved again, now just a foot from me, so I could smell his musky, woodsy scent. "Maybe, Gin, we should hang out, or something... In Hogsmeade, maybe, or anywhere, and..." He paused, his expression suddenly more intense. " I want to spend time with you..."

My heart drummed uncomfortably in my chest as I processed his words and the soft expression on his face -an expression I had fantasized about endlessly a few months ago.

Now it didn't really melt me.

He reached out, taking a strand of my hair, and examining it in the light. He moved closer, and I could feel his body against mine.

"Because, Ginny..." He murmured. His breath tickled my cheek. His eyes moved to my mouth. "I like you," he whispered against my lips.

"Oh Harry..." I murmured. I didn't think of anything else but the fact that this was the boy I'd been crazy about since I was eleven -and he was going to kiss me. I glanced up at the little clumps of leaves on the ceiling. "Mistletoe..."

Harry held my face in both is hands, and I could see his bright green eyes gleaming. "I hope there aren't Nargles in it this time."

I giggled breathlessly.

Slowly, me brought his face closer, until his lips were half an inch from mine.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a large clump of something cold and white hit Harry's head, and spattered a bit on to me.

"What the–" Harry leaped a foot back, his head covered in snow. I stared at him, too surprised to speak.

I noticed the deep laughter from the side, and though I recognized the voice, I turned my head in that direction with a death glare in my face.

Draco Malfoy stood there, doubling over in unmistakable mirth. "Gods..." he gasped, looking up, his eyes watering in laughter. "The _look_ on Pothead's face!"

I looked desperately at Harry, hoping that he, as a man, would kill Malfoy for me -at least that way I wouldn't have to look at him, fighting fascination and hatred at the same time.

But I didn't think Harry could _talk, _let alone kill someone. His face was even redder than my hair, and -sopping wet- he was a sorry sight.

Malfoy straightened up, still grinning. "That's _my_ contribution to your _young love..._" he said in a soft voice. Then he sniggered again, and brushed off the snow from his hands. "Learn from my good aim."

"Shut up, Malfoy," I said in a hard voice. "Stuff something into that large mouth of yours, if it isn't possible for you to just _snap_it shut, _right now._" Even mad as I was, I couldn't help looking at the beautiful boy, roaring with laughter at the destruction of the best kiss scene between me and the Boy Who Lived, who -it appeared now- would turn into the Boy Who Lived and Died of Embarrassment.

Malfoy controlled another spasm of mirth and looked at me, his face expressionless, but his stormy gray eyes absolutely glittering with amusement.

"Concerning my mouth," he drawled, "there are many other things I'm capable of doing, as well." He smirked. "I'll show you,_after _Pothead's gone."

Now I will describe the scene to you: there was me and Harry, standing apart from each other, Harry's face beet red, his hair dripping with water running down his face, his glasses spattered with snow -and Mafloy standing almost three feet from me, in fits of laughter. And me, with tears running brewing in my widened eyes, and my face feeling very hot.

"Don't talk to Ginny like that," Harry said finally in a feeble attempt to sound fierce. "Ginny, let's go."

"What, Potter, scared I'll grab your redhead Weaselette?" Malfoy smirked, his hand on his hip, and cocked a flawless eyebrow.

"Malfoy, _shut it._ Harry, just go before I'm so disgusted with you and everyone else that I just combust. You, ferret, I'm going to _kill you."_ I burst out finally, almost spat.

Harry's eyes widened in suprise and hurt at my outburst. He backed away feebly. "I'm...I'm sorry, Gin."

"Aww...." Malfoy drawled, snorting.

I ignored him.

Harry backed out the archway tentatively. "Malfoy, don't you _dare_ hurt her."

Malfoy covered his mouth in mock horror. "Oh, my, Scarhead, I'm _so_ scared. Don't worry, I'll just give her roses and strawberry cake."

"Sod off..." Harry muttered. "Gin... Sorry... I'll, um, see you later."

I ignored that, too, and stared at Malfoy so hard it was as though I thought I could scorch him with my glare. Harry turned, and quickly ran back through the hallway.

I waited until the sound of his footsteps died, still glaring viciously at Malfoy, who was smirking unconcernedly at me.

"What is your _problem, _huh?" I spat at him.

"Well, I saw that there was some lovey-dovey stuff going on between you and Potter, and I thought you deserved an audience." He laughed, then pretended to look thoughtful. "I'm sorry I forgot to clap."

"Grrrr..." I growled, beyond words now. The tears spattered from my eyes, whose tear ducts were connected to my embarrassment and temper.

Malfoy still had that smirk on his face, and he slowly strutted toward me. He took a look at my face, and did a double take.

"Oh, _shit."_ He looked away from me abruptly, his eyebrows drawing together. "Oh, _shit."_

_"What?"_

He looked back at me warily, and a little bit..._apologetically,_ his stormy eyes anxious. "I, er...didn't mean to hurt you, Weasley," he said, flushing delicately. "Don't cry..."

"I. Am. Not. Crying. You. Jerk," I said through my teeth, more tears gushing down my face.

A little smirk flashed across his face momentarily, but his expression remained concerned.

"Look, I didn't mean to...make you _cry._ I just wanted to show you Potter stinks, okay?" He walked slowly toward me, and patted my shoulder awkwardly. I cringed away from his hand. "I'm...er, sorry._"_

My eyes widened in astonishment, my anger briefly evaporating. Malfoy _apologizing?_ The teardrops that were brewing in my eyes spattered out of the brim as I shook my head mutely in surprise.

"Look, what can I do?" he said, his silver eyes desperate. "What can I do to stop you crying?"

I just stared at him, just a foot from me, his hand still outstretched. His stormy, steel gray eyes concerned, his flawless eyebrows in an anxious frown. His pale face flushed, his full, dark lips...

"Okay," he said suddenly, the smirk flashing across his face again, his expression suddenly calculating. He took a slow, gracefulstep towards me, the smirk still on his beautiful face. "I have an idea... I'll _show_ you."

He put out his hands, and held my face between them suddenly. I didn't move, because I had the feeling he'd got the same idea I had.

A grin flashed across my face, as I decided on the ultimate punishment for a Malfoy.

He touched my lips with his fingertips, and before I could act on my decision, he did it himself. He pressed his lips against mine.

For a second, he didn't move, his lips stationary on mine. Then, surprisingly, he jolted to action, and his lips crushed against mine enthusiastically. His mouth was very warm, and incredibly soft. I forgot that I was kissing despicable Draco Malfoy, and kissed him back.

For a few short moment, his lips and mine, each holding our own places, moved with each other eagerly.

I realized that I enjoyed kissing Draco Malfoy. I responded with equal enthusiasm. I left his face, and ran my hands up his smooth, hard chest. A light shudder rippled through him, and he crushed me closer to himself.

I could feel every line of his lean body against mine.

A few moments later, I recognized something very warm, wet and exciting -his tongue. I eagerly gave it entry.

The kiss was very thrilling, and eager, and _fierce._

My tongue traced across his lips lightly, marveling at their soft smoothness. A low moan sounded from the back of his throat -a sound of contentment.

I _really_ enjoyed kissing Draco Malfoy.

FInally, he pulled away, his eyes bright with excitement and his mouth parted. "Wow..." he murmured.

"You know, Malfoy, I can't believe we did that," I said conversationally. "A Malfoy under the mistletoe, kissing a Weasley. Sounds..."

My head fell back as his lips traced my collar bone, and went up my neck. "Sounds like the Malfoy has good taste. And the Weasley is sensible."

I brought my mouth to his again. This kiss was sweeter, chaste. His hand traced down my face, to my neck. He swiftly went to the back of my neck, and pulled out the comb in my hair.

My tresses came tumbling down my back. "I _love_ your hair," he murmured against my lips. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

I pulled away briefly to look at Malfoy. His eyes were shining, and there was that small smirk on his face again. "What?"

"Oh, Weaslelette, I've been crushing on you for a long time." His lips moved over my mouth and cheeks, and be nibbled at my ear. I shivered, and giggled. "Really? I'm flattered."

"You should be." He smirked. "Thank Merlin you realized Mr. Shitpot isn't worth it." His hand caressed my hair, while the other was outlining my lips, which trembled under his touch.

"One of these days I'll teach you more about _The Art of Name-Calling,_ Draco," I said, giggling as I snuggled to his hard chest.

His put his arm around me. "That's tomorrow, Ginny. Today we kiss."

I stood on my toes, and reached for his face. "Tomorrrow sounds _good,_" I whispered against his mouth, before I captured his lips with mine again.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah, it is me again. ;p Please tell me what you think – I mean, REVIEW!

This fic is submitted to the D/G FORUM's Christmas Fic Challenge! The link is http:// www . /forum/rowangreenleafs_Ginny_Draws_Draco_Fic_Challenge/54059/

I wasn't sure how the link would turn out, so take off the spaces! Its a fun place, you should go check it out!

–starlit skyes


	2. A Few Lessons–and Proposals

I dragged the stubborn, extremely good-looking, haughty and unwilling boy by hand, pushing him onto a chair in the library; this made me think he wasn't so unwilling -the fact that he allowed himself to be pushed and dragged by a small girl like me.

"This is stupid, Ginevra," he drawled, frowning disapprovingly. "Utterly dumb."

"I know," I giggled. "That's why it's going to be _fun._"

Draco snorted, folding his arms on his chest and looking away in a cute gesture of hauteur. I could hardly remember hating him now.

"So funny. Right." he muttered.

"I know. That's what I said, too."

"Remind me why we are doing this again?"

"Because..." I pulled his tie, smiling seductively. "You _promised_ we would start your_Art of Name-Calling_ lessons."

"That was only so you wouldn't stop kissing me."

"I didn't know your intentions. A promise is a promise. Even though you'd said "tomorrow" and it is a week later." I dropped his tie, standing in front of him, smiling amusedly.

He smirked. "Malfoy's don't need to keep promises, now, do they?"

I frowned. "They need to, if they value their life. Especially this snob of a Malfoy in front of me."

His smirk grew wider. "Oh, so you're gonna kill me if I don't listen to you? Sad." He shook his head in mock gloom. "You'll never get a decent kiss again."

I laughed. "Draco, shut up."

He chuckled, and then pulled my arm so I sat with a bump on the chair next to him. "Begin classes, then, ma'am."

"Uh..." I flipped out a scrap of parchment from inside my robes. "I had it jotted down..."

"What? I'm sure you spent all night, working hard to keep me happy. Didn't you, Weaselette?"

"Yeah, right." I rolled my eyes, fighting a giggle. "I had my Pygmy Puff write it for me while I dictated just before breakfast today. Arnold has a great handwriting."

He snorted. "Alright, lets take a look at _Arnold's_ valued work, then."

"Nope, I dictate, you don't get to look what. You're my student here."

"Fine, fine," he snorted again. "I'm just humoring you with this thing, really, so it doesn't matter what we do, its going to be dead boring anyway. It's a waste of time."

I took his face in one hand, and stared into his steel gray eyes. "You know what," I murmured. "You're a _bad_ liar sometimes, Draco."

His stormy eyes glinted, and then he bent to capture my lips with his. He kissed me enthusiastically for a few minutes, and I responded with equal enthusiasm. "Alright," he murmured finally, after our breathing had steadied. "I'm interested. This class is going to be...extremely…_fun._"

"Right." I glanced down at my parchment. "Firstly, though, I must say, I don't like taking Harry as the subject."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Potty worshipper, still. I knew it."

I glared at him. I knew he didn't mean things like this, but the subject of my previous obsessive crush was very touchy to Draco.

"I never _worshipped_ him. You ought to know that I never really _wanted_ to kiss him that day, anyway." I had realized that the only reason I hadn't pulled away from Harry right then was the fact that I had been crazy about him some time ago. Right now, Harry was just a friend, if anything at all –a friend that was now jealous of Draco, which, I had to admit, gave me a bit of pleasure.

"Even if I had kissed him, I'd have understood the next minute that I didn't enjoy it –that I didn't like him," I continued, still glaring. "So cut the insecurity crap."

Draco smirked a little, though his eyes were still defensive. "I did think you were sensible, so I hope you _would _pull away. I hope you give him your famous Bat Bogey."

"I wouldn't, because he's never going to try and kiss me again. He'd think I was infected with Malfoy-cooties, or something," I chuckled, and then frowned. "The whole feud thing between you two is so _childish."_

"I don't know if you are correct about that. Anyway, _I_ don't think there's anything wrong with you because of your lips' close exposure to Pothead's." He leaned to me again, planting a wet, delicious kiss on my lips to prove his point, already over his brief fit.

I chuckled. "_Pothead?" _I repeated in exaggerated derision. "Really, this class has _got_ to start, _stat."_

Draco grinned, his silvery eyes gleaming. "First -how do I know if my teacher is _eligible_ for this post? How do I know that my teacher has proficient_knowledge_ in this fine _Art of Name-Calling?"_

My eyes narrowed. I took a deep breath, and said a few, noteworthy, eloquent, _short_ words that made his eyes gleam in appreciation, a surprised smirk curving his dark lips.

"Convinced of my proficiency?" I asked lightly.

He bowed his head in mock reverence. "Thou art a maestro in thy subject."

The Old Englisj sounded _wonderful_ in his silky baritone…

"So can we start already?" I said quickly.

"Yeah." he smirked slightly, his eyes amused. "Do."

"First of all, you _need_ to give up on the _Pot._" I said in a half amused, half exasperated tone.

"The _pot? _Can I use the _pan_, then?"

"Very mature, Draco."

"No, I didn't get it. What do you mean?" his expression was genuinely curious now, though his eyes glinted in humor.

"Every single word you direct to Harry has a _pot_, just because his name is Potter. Pothead, Potbrain, Shitpot... _Spotty Potty!?"_ I said exasperatedly. "Don't you think that's a tiny bit _juvenile, _and just plain _dumb?_ Okay, that's an understatement."

"I say _Scarhead,_ too," he said smirking. "But yeah, I get what you mean."

My eyes widened with involuntary surprise -Draco Malfoy _agreeing_ to a mistake he made was something I still hadn't gotten used to.

"So, I suggest you _remove_ quips on Harry's appearance or _name, __off _of your Foul Mouth-er's vocabulary," I said, blushing a little at my choice of words.

"_What are you two doing there?"_ a voice squawked from behind us. Draco and I turned back at the same time to see the barrel-like form of Madame Pince behind us, glaring at me and the piece of worn parchment in my hand as though it had personally offended her.

"My notes, Madame," Draco said immediately, widening his mercury eyes innocently. "Weasley here is giving me some assistance." He gestured at me, while I watched him interestedly.

"Oh," Madame Pince said, looking at Draco while I sneakily put the parchment back into my pocket. Her eyes still suspiciously glared at Draco.

"Now," he said in a sinuous voice. "You shouldn't interrupt our studies like this. It disrupts my concentration. You wouldn't want that, now, would you?" His voice sounded amused to me, but I detected a little bit of menace.

Madame Pince's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Of course not, Mr. Malfoy." She turned, and walked away, her back ramrod straight.

"I hadn't seen her coming," I said, still amused.

"Well, she's gone now, and won't be back for a while. She's scared of my father, you know," he explained.

"Ah," I smiled. "I have to say, though, Draco -You are one hell of a smooth talker."

He chuckled. "It's an inborn talent, Ginny."

"Anyway!" I grinned, thinking of Draco's other, more interesting 'inborn talents'. "You have some learning to do!"

He grinned. "Yeah? Well, go on."

"So, give up on the appearance and name. Yeah. And then -even if it is appearance, you can comment on other, um, parts of his appearance, instead of his _scar,_ like–"

"Wait," he interrupted suddenly, his eyes wickedly amused. "Much as I would like to know about the 'other parts of his appearance' that I may possibly be interested in, I want to have you informed about the extent of my own tiny little knowledge in this subject."

"Feel free," I said, smiling.

"I'll use Harry Potter as the example, obviously." He gave me that same, wicked sort of smirk.

Now _he_ said a few significantly profane words in lucid sentences about Harry that, instead of sounding strange in his silky voice, instead of insulting me that he was ridiculing my brother's best friend -sounded decidedly sexy. And the 'extent of his knowledge' made my mouth pop open.

"Satisfied, respected teacher?" he said, smirking broadly at my reaction.

"Um, sure," I gulped. "Okay, tell me then, Draco," I paused, noting briefly how his eyes absolutely glittered with humor and unmistakable satisfaction. "Why do you act so half-baked when it comes to calling Harry something?"

"I always called Harry Potter stupid things." He smirked slightly, his eyes clear pools of mercury. "I never called Potter what I wanted to call him because I thought you'd be insulted if I did, and then you would _never_ like me," he said, completely unabashed. "I hoped you would like me more, notice me more, if I was halfway civil to him."

My eyes widened.

"You were always around him," he added casually. "It used to _infuriate_ me." He smirked.

"It was involuntary, if at all, Draco," I said, still dazed.

"Then I thought, if _I_ didn't get you, I didn't want Potter to, either. Hence, the Christmas Ball incident. And I didn't like it -the bloke has you around his finger for five years while he hurts you repeatedly, and then, all of a sudden, he _likes_ you? No." He gazing at me calmly as he spoke, as though he were just discussing how rainy it was outside.

"Oh," I said again, feeling very lame at my one-syllable response. I mean, what else could I say?

_Thanks?_

"So lets just get to the more _interesting_ part of this class, huh?" he said, with a lopsided sort of smile that made my heart thump.

"And what is that?"

"Recess from class," he said, and then he caught my face securely between his hands, and captured my lips with his.

Draco's kissing was exquisite. His soft, smooth lips seemed the only thing in the whole world, his lean, hard chest pressed against me sending thrilled tingles up my spine. His scent, like rich crimson roses and something delightfully refreshing, like mint, enveloped me until I couldn't smell anything else; didn't want to smell anything else. Just when I was out of breath, but wanted nothing less than to stop, he'd pull away, and smirk teasingly at me. And as I'd get angry, he would kiss me again.

His hands left my face now, sliding across my neck, caressing my hair. There was so much of heat, so much energy and excitement, that my lips seemed to melt, and mold to his.

A few short minutes later, he pulled away, his eyes bright with excitement and a triumphant little smirk curving his parted lips. Involuntarily, my eyebrows drew together in disapproval.

He chuckled softly, and then leaned in again to kiss me softly -I could feel the smile on his lips.

"And when does "recess" end?" I gasped finally as his mouth softly traced across my chin, down the curve of my neck.

He straightened and looked straight at me, his silver eyes still bright. "Not for a while," he said softly. "Do you want "recess" to finish?"

I pulled his face toward me again, but paused half an inch from his expectant lips. "The way it's going…" I kissed the tip of his nose. "I don't want "recess" to _ever _be over." I whispered, before I kissed his lips again.

X

_Three years later..._

I sat at my little desk, gazing morosely through the window in my apartment, at the usual bustling crowds of people and vehicles and carpets (Ali Bashir had received acceptance now).

I sighed.

What were all those people _doing,_ when they should be gazing at the new Bullet 1001? It's what I'd have done.

But I could just _gaze_, never _buy_ it. I was too damned poor. I sighed again, letting my fingers drum listlessly against the desk.

"Why the long face?" A beautiful, silvery haired man ambled into my room, smirking, looking slightly concerned.

"Bullet 1001. A broomstick. That's why the long face," I said in a flat voice. "Life isn't worth living."

"Awww..." he drawled, now truly amused. "You have _many_ things to be glad about, little Weasel. Like for instance…" He paused, pretending to look thoughtful, counting on his fingers.

"The War is over... _Pothead, _as you so dislike to call him, killed Voldemort." He smirked, and I had to smile at the memory.

"You have your own little apartment, even though it _is_...dirty," he said, glancing delicately around my room at the piles of clothes and books. "You are young... and beautiful." He reached out to lightly touch my cheek with his fingertips. "And you're getting married tomorrow."

Before I'd had time to process that last statement, he drew out a little box, and pulled out a thin, golden ring, set with brilliant amethysts. He grabbed my left hand, and pushed the ring into my third finger.

"Draco...?" I gasped.

"I'm not giving you an opportunity to say 'no'. Just you and me, at the local registrar's office, tomorrow evening. And I made it abrupt and did everything beforehand because you couldn't hurt me enough to refuse after I'd arranged so much." He smirked, but his eyes were very intense.

He caught my hands. "So... now you're engaged. You should be a very happy person -there's nothing to question about my marriageability, now, is there?"

I felt like I was trembling all over, though I was standing still and calm. I smiled shakily at him. "No. By all standards, you're gorgeous," I said simply.

"After tomorrow, you can buy anything you want. After tomorrow, you'll come and live with me at the Manor."

His face grew very serious, his eyes smoldering. "Tomorrow, Ginny, you'll be mine... and I yours."

I caught his face between my hands very slowly, ignoring the fast, excited, ecstatic thumping of my heart and the rapturous burning of my cheeks. I whispered just three words:

"_Tomorrow sounds good_."

And then I stretched on my toes to press my lips to his.

X–X–X

How was it? Reviews, I think, are _wonderful_ things...(hint, hint!)

Right, I'm terrible at subtlety. DO REVIEW!! Xclasps handsX

Hope you liked it!

Starlit Skyes


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